I was on pace at the Ayala Marathon last 22 February. It was one of those days when everything was falling into place. Effort controlled, breathing steady, legs cooperating. I was running with my assistant coach, Chloi, and we were exactly where we needed to be.

Then around kilometer 28, somewhere in Intramuros — with its uneven, patchy roads — it happened.

A bad step. Then another. Then I was on the ground.

It was easily the worst fall I’ve had in a race.

I knew right away it wasn’t just a scratch. My knees took the worst hit, but I also felt it on my forehead. We stopped and waited for a medic. Given how deep the wounds felt, it seemed like the smart thing to do.

But the medic was taking too long.

After a few minutes, I did a quick check on myself. No dizziness. I could stand. I could move. It hurt, yes — but it wasn’t disabling.

So I made a call runners are very familiar with: I chose to keep going.

Fifteen more kilometers. Not pretty, not comfortable, but forward.

It was only after the race, when things started to settle, that I realized how bad it actually was.

From the photos I took, the knee wounds would fall under what you’d call a deep partial-thickness abrasion. Basically, not just surface-level — you’re into the dermis. Which explains why it looked raw, why it wept early on, and why it later formed that dark crust in the center.

At that point, I did something I don’t normally do — I tracked it daily.

Every day, I’d take a photo and send it to ChatGPT. Same wounds, different stages. And every day, I’d get a slightly adjusted assessment.

For comparison, I also consulted an online doctor. His advice was what most of us grew up with: clean it, apply Betadine every day, let it dry.

Except I learned that’s actually outdated.

The AI guidance I kept getting instead was to keep the wounds moist, not dry. Avoid using Betadine after the initial cleaning unless there’s a real infection risk. Betadine, it turned out, was cytotoxic — it can damage or kill living cells, not just bacteria.

So instead of “dry it out,” the approach became “protect it.”

ChatGPT recommended I use Duoderm CGF, which kept the wounds in that ideal moist environment. It really felt so comforting on my skin and kept the wounds from rubbing against my clothes.

And because I was sending photos to my AI “consultant” daily, the advice kept evolving. It wasn’t rigid — it responded to what was actually happening. It even offered advice on how soon I could run without delaying healing. It explained so comprehensively how my wounds were evolving.

I know we’re conditioned to be wary of AI. But in this case, it proved very useful. Not because it replaced a doctor, but because it gave me access to updated, evidence-based guidance. To be sure, I would cross-check the data. I geeked out about wound care. And it made me a lot more informed, not less.